Emperor Xuanqing was seriously injured. The most terrible thing was not the pain, but the heart-wrenching nausea and dizziness. He knew that Song Lu was seriously injured, so he gently patted his shoulder and said, "This time, I am the one who caused you trouble."
After a period of dizziness, he became much clearer. Song Lu fell on his knees, with clear veins between his white wrist bones. He had obviously suffered a great deal. He said to the king: "No, it is the minister who has dragged down your majesty. Kyoto is changing, and I have become a burden at this time."
"Nonsense." The king raised his hand and stroked the top of his hair, coaxing: "The country is a burden, you are not."
The corners of his eyes were wet, and he felt sick and unbearable in his chest. The hand placed on Emperor Xuanqing's knee unconsciously grasped his clothes tightly.
Slowly subduing the pain, he said: "Your Majesty is just trying to make me happy. Your Majesty knows my wishes."
Emperor Xuanqing patted him gently and said for him: "Finish the affairs of the world as a king and win fame both before and after your death." He paused and said, "You, you are so eager for fame and fame, but fortunately you have me."
Song Lu asked: "Will Your Majesty favor me?"
The king said: "No, I want to favor you."
Intention: Fang Sheng loves the king, and all things share his light. The good fortune in this life is not about sharing weal and woe, but about the night talk around the fire behind the iron horse.